


Neighbor

by Ianto_Jack_Ten



Category: Marilyn Manson (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ianto_Jack_Ten/pseuds/Ianto_Jack_Ten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So in the autobiography written by Marilyn Manson it mentions his neighbor doing things to him. I tried to keep it similar to how I remembered it in the book but I did not have it in front of me... with my own artistic license of course. I apologize in advance. I own nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neighbor

“Brian, come to the basement and play ‘Prison’ with me.” The boy whose house I was at told me. He was older than I was and I did not really like him, I just liked how he had a channel with all the good cartoons that I didn’t at home. That is what brought me back every Saturday. He was kind of big and had blonde hair.

“What’s that?” I asked him with a confused look on my pale face. It was a new game he created obviously, he was good at coming up with new ‘games’ if one could really call them that. I got up off of his plush, green sofa anyway and moved over to him as I waited for an explanation.

“It’s a game, come on.” He beckoned me to follow him down the stairs to the basement where the water heater was and all of the stuff they didn’t use, Christmas decorations and Halloween ones when off season… plus miscellaneous car parts, it was different than my grandfather’s which had a bunch of train stuff.

I followed after him with a sigh, he needed to explain it to me if he wanted me to be able to do things. He had told me to go down the stairs as he pulled the chain to let the lights on and shut the door. 

“It is called ‘Prison’ ok?” He asked with a smile on his face that I didn’t like, it seemed like he was going to do something bad. “You are the prisoner and I am the guard. The prisoners aren’t allowed to wear clothing, take ‘em off.” He pointed at my clothes.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. That was a weird thing to tell someone to do when in a basement, especially when I was seven. I looked at him with hesitation and he just told me, “Take them off, or I will for you.” So I listened to him and pulled off my red shirt as I toed the socks off my feet, we weren’t allowed shoes in the house so they were already off. 

I was really thin and pale from being sick a lot. My mom always made it out to be worse than it was though. I pulled my attention toward my jeans to get them off but I looked up at him and found he was stripping himself. “What are you doing?” My voice was quiet when I had asked.

“The guards don’t wear clothes either,” He stated matter-o-factly and continued on with his undressing. “The pants have to go too,” My neighbor pointed out that I had stalled to which I just nodded a little bit.

This was weird and I didn’t like it but he was older than me and Ii was at his house so I felt I had to listen to him, he told me that once. The blue jeans I had on came off so I was just standing in the dimly lit, damp basement in my tidy-whites. Which I just had a feeling he would say they had to go too.

That was what he came out of his mouth next when I looked at him. He was already out in the open completely. He looked a lot more pudgy without his clothes on, had man boobs really. I knew I was just thinking about that to demean him in my head to make myself feel better about this. So off came the underwear.

The blonde ordered me to put my hands on the wall and spread my legs, a thing I had seen cops do on TV when they searched people which it just what he said he was doing. Now that I was naked it didn’t seem so bad because he was going to do something I had seen on TV. That did not mean I ran over to the wall to get into position, no. I walked over there and kept glancing back at him. 

He ordered me into the position and when I got there he kicked my feet, “They need to be further apart.” He demanded like he was a cop or guard. I moved my feet like he told me to do. All of my joints locked into place to keep me still.

He pressed his fat body against me as he started feeling around my shoulder area before reaching to move his hands down my arms to mine. He brought them back by going through the underside where they ended up in my armpits before going down my sides. He was slow with this and it felt weird. It was not fast like on TV.

When he got to my sides he pushed himself off of my back and his hands trailed down my hips toward my knees, then ankles. Then they came back up they were on the back of my legs, the closer they got to my butt the more I tensed up. He lingered there a bit longer than elsewhere so far but continued up onto my back. 

I wanted to tell him to stop, that I didn’t like this but I couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t work and I had seen what he does when he gets mad a few times, it was usually his German Shepherd Dog that got the worst of it though. 

His hands moved onto my chest, his stomach back against my back, the pudgy fingers feeling over the flesh in a slow but heavy way, like no one ever taught him how to be nice when he was younger. He trailed down toward my penis and I bit at my lip. I had been told no one was ever supposed to touch you there. And what he did next was just that. He fondled the appendage which I really had trouble even aiming to pee, much less could do more with. 

We heard a voice from up the stairs on the actual part of his house, he pulled away and told me to put my clothes on before we got into trouble as he moved off quickly to get his own. I didn’t feel right after him touching me. I felt dirty, like I needed a bath and like his short, fat fingers were still roaming and his fat was against my back.

When we got our clothes back on he headed up the stairs and opened the door to get into the hall, “Right here, Mom,” He told the middle aged but not unattractive woman. She told him it was lunch time and asked if I was staying. 

“No, ma’am,” I told her. “I have to go home for lunch.” I lied to her. I just didn’t want to be here. She said ok and moved back to the kitchen, telling her son to go wash up. He answered, “Yes ma’am,” but didn’t just yet. He looked at me and told me if I ever told anyone he was going to kill my dog and hurt the rest of my family. Also that I better come back next Saturday. I couldn’t do anything but nod. I didn’t want my family hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry.  
> I never had anyone read it to tell me if I had errors in my typing... I let one person read it but she doesn't really know things about him so... Yea.  
> Sorry.  
> I also wrote this kind of late at night when I could not sleep.  
> ///Apologizes 700 more times///


End file.
